Yesterday afternoon I got an automated phone call from my daughter's high school informing me that the local police had arrested an adult male for making threats to "shoot up" the school. We were lucky--the guy made those threats to a deputy sheriff over the weekend, and police had his house staked out. He was arrested before he could act on the threats. Right now he's sitting in County Lock-up on $750,000 bond.
On one hand, I am so very grateful that nobody got shot. Police did what they needed to do, and I applaud them for it. Yesterday we avoided becoming the next Sandy Hook, Aurora, Colorado, or the next Sikh Temple of Wisconsin. Nobody had to go claim their dead child, our town is not gonna have to face a row of coffins, a media invasion or world scrutiny.
On the other hand, this particular guy has a list of arrests and convictions going back over 20 years. His record has more than 25 different counts and charges in it, some felony, some misdemeanor, some violent, some not. He was being served with a hearing notice for a pending felony charge when he made the gun threats. Not to put too fine of a point on this, but he's F***ing nuts. WHY was he allowed to live in a house where he could see the doors to my kid's school--to ANY school for that matter? WHY was he still out running loose? How does somebody like this walk the same streets as my daughter?
After I listened to my automated message informing me of the removed threat to my only child, I spent the next few hours trying to decide if I wanted to vomit, scream, or cry. Ultimately, I opted for crying and some minimal screaming, but the physical illness was a near thing for large parts of the evening.
At one point I was thinking that we could home school--that we'd just pull her out of that high school. On the heels of that thought was the realization that if I pulled her out of her school "for her safety" am I also willing to keep her out of all movie theaters, malls, and churches? Am I willing to imprison my child in *my* fears? I feel like I owe it to her to quell my own fears and let her live her life as she will. It's her job to be a kid, it's my job to let her do it.
I slept very little last night and was up very early this morning. My daughter went to school as usual--planning to stay late to rehearse for an upcoming performance in a talent show. Somehow that normalcy was preserved in spite of yesterday's panic and anger.
Where does it end, and how much further can it go?
Laura
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